


Scars Fade

by Zlu_and_Luff



Category: Tyranny (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-10-31 09:22:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10896399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zlu_and_Luff/pseuds/Zlu_and_Luff
Summary: A collection of bonuses for 'His Own Medicine'. If you haven't read that one this will probably be extremely confusing and will spoil the ending.Most of these snippets will be light-hearted stuff.





	1. Calculated Risk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ceveus and Remedy.

“Well, that wasn’t half as bad as I expected.”

“Those words coming from you, I suppose I should be flattered,” Ceveus snorted.

Jagged Remedy gave him a skeptical look and pulled the covers over himself. “I would much prefer to be digging in gore right now. But I was tired and they say variety is the spice of life.”

“So it is.” Ceveus lay down next to him. 

A quiet moment passed peacefully, then Ceveus draped an arm around the older man and pulled him close.

“I will not be the smaller spoon!” Remedy protested angrily, trying to break out of the Iron Guard’s bear hug.

“So sorry, but I’m not turning my back on you. I’m not stupid.”

“Let me go or I’ll make you regret all of this…”

“I’ve removed the tools from under your pillow. And from under the mattress too.” Ceveus chortled.

“I’m never doing this again.”

“Never say never, Remedy.”

“Go die in a fire.”


	2. Reviewing the Local Cuisine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nerashe fluff. 
> 
> Sorry for long-time-no-update.

“Easy there. If you keep gobbling pie up like that you won’t fit into that nice new armor anymore.”

“You’re one to shpeak,” Nerat quipped with his mouth full. “Eat yoursh, it’sh very good.”

Ashe scrutinized his own plate. He’d seen much much better-looking pies. He sighed and picked up a piece. Nerat was frozen, watching him intently. Ashe rolled his eyes and bit into it. He chewed. 

“It’s not bad.”

“Bah. Blashphemy.”

Ashe snorted watching the other Archon stuff himself. Nerat’s face was a web of scars, many of them running into his hair and his beard. Ashe glared at said beard with disapproval. 

“Someone is trying to look more like his old self. I hope you’re not planning to shave your head and ask me to pommel your skull into a conical shape.”

“Wow. A hat would’ve done.” Nerat laughed. “But no, I just like having my own mustache and beard to pull on when I’m deep in thought.”

“Gah.” Ashe shook his head, pretending to be offended. “I don’t do it that often, you mustache-twirling miscreant.”

Nerat snickered and went back to the food.

“The pie is quite good,” Ashe admitted and lifted another piece.

“It’s even better than I remembered.” Nerat smiled. “But perhaps it’s the good company.”

Ashe felt a wave of affection through the aegis. Nerat put a hand on the table. Ashe shook his head. He was too old for this. But he covered Nerat’s palm with his own, and the pure joy and excitement in Nerat’s eyes made him wonder if there were perhaps rooms for rent in this backwater.


	3. Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little jump back in time compared to the previous installment. Ashe Nerat fluff, vague love-making.

Few weeks after Misery’s defeat, Graven Ashe judged Nerat to be recovered enough to finally indulge him. Ever since he had taken him under the aegis, the green-eyed bastard had leaked his lechery through their bond. But now for once Ashe no longer saw anything particularly wrong with it. In fact he shared the sentiment.

The idea of taking Nerat to his bed again was pleasing. Despite Nerat’s jokes about the scars, Ashe saw no ugliness in them, only a reminder of his own folly. Whenever they disagreed now, simply looking at Nerat’s crisscrossed face was enough to make him give the other man’s arguments a second thought rather than rejecting them outright. Nerat was having a surprisingly positive influence on him. But then again they were always opposites. It appeared both had something to learn from each other.

That night was little different from the others.

Since their return to the Bastard City, Nerat had spent every night sleeping beside Ashe. They had almost begun to settle into a routine. Ashe decided it was high time to break it. 

When Nerat shifted close to him and tried to embrace him, Ashe instead pulled him into a kiss.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better than ever.” Shining green eyes smiled at him.

“That’s good to hear. I wouldn’t want to hurt you, but I couldn’t fail but notice you’ve been getting restless.” Ashe caressed the side of Nerat’s scarred face.

“Have I?” Nerat asked playfully. “Oh my, what are we going to do about that, hm?”

“Anything you like,” Ashe rumbled.

“You know what I like,” Nerat pulled the bigger man on top of himself.

Ashe rested most of his weight on his arms, suddenly very aware of Nerat’s just recently broken ribs.

“Don’t worry, I’m all mended by now. Relax. Lean on me, come on… There we go.”

Ashe looked at the man sprawled on the sheets below him. He was a study in scars and arcane symbology, but he was beautiful in his own way. Like a relic, like a weathered trusty weapon… Ashe caught himself comparing Nerat to an object and felt silently ashamed. To compensate for it he leaned down and kissed him again.

“I’ll make sure that all your scars are healed first,” he said and bowed down trailing kisses all over the freshly mended skin, starting at Nerat’s shoulders and going lower and lower.

Soon Nerat’s breath grew shallow.

Making love to someone under the aegis was always very peculiar. There had been more than one occasion where Ashe found out more than he wanted to about his partners. But with Nerat? There was no perversion Nerat could display or desire that Ashe hadn’t attributed to him multiplied by a hundred.

So it was actually very odd to test their bond and find the most burning need to be the one for an embrace. And when that was fulfilled - kisses, shallow gentle pecks. Ashe could hardly believe it. The man below him was melting from the simplest little gestures of tenderness…

And then it made sense.

Ashe didn’t know much about Nerat’s mortal life. He only knew he was quite young when he betrayed his family and came into Kyros’ service under Misery’s tutelage. The story had been sung around the Tiers as part of the effort to stabilize Nerat back when he had almost reverted to flame, but Ashe never heard it. Everyone knew so much more about Nerat than he did. Graven Ashe made a mental note to ask Nerat later. It would be wrong to find out any other way.

But he guessed from the way Nerat nuzzled his hands and sought out the smallest caresses, he hadn’t had enough of these back when he had a body. In another man Ashe would have found these puppy antics disgraceful. But in Nerat’s case he was almost certain there was a well of sadness waiting to be uncovered somewhere behind this desperate need for affection. For now he just had to satisfy it.

It didn’t take long.

In a few minutes Nerat was snoozing in his arms. Ashe kissed his temple. 

“I love you,” Nerat murmured and went back to sleep.

Ashe had to stop himself from jumping out of the bed and running away to spend the rest of his days in the nearest Oldwall. He barely managed.


	4. Déjà Vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nerat relives some bloody memories of the last time he had a body (and a conscience).

There was blood on his hands. Some of it was already coagulating, making his fingers sticky.

He had no strength to wash it off.

He remembered sitting like this, splattered with blood head to toe, tears running clear trails down his face. So many times he had fallen into a stupor and let the world drift away staring at his bloody hands, knowing he tortured and murdered another defenseless victim that most likely did not deserve it. He had felt empty and awful, undeserving to live, but too afraid to die.

He despised himself, and he let the Archon of Misery do everything he wanted with him. Because he deserved no better, because he was afraid to disobey and die. Because he was a worthless coward who would rather be an eternal tool of torture than a short-lived hero.

“Nerat. Nerat! Eli.”

He blinked quickly, shaken quite literally out of his reverie.

Graven Ashe was over him. His frown was one of concern. “You’ve done a good job, everyone survived. You should wash your hands before the blood dries.”

Nerat stared ahead of himself, disoriented, even as Ashe pulled him up to his feet by the shoulders, and supporting him with one arm, led him to a stream.

“Stay with me now. I felt your mind drifting into dangerous waters. Looks like I was right.”

“I… what?” Nerat still couldn’t reconnect the past to the present.

“You’re tired, is what you are. Wash and lie down. We march at dawn, and I need you in top shape. Or the guilt of the ones you healed will be nagging at me whole day tomorrow.”

Nerat made a noise of agreement. When Ashe brought him to the stream, he washed himself clean thoughtlessly. Then almost collapsed into the water. Ashe swore and caught him. Instead of trying to help Nerat walk he simply threw the exhausted healer over his shoulder and carried him to his tent.

He laid the poor bastard down, stripped him and tucked him in. The tired green eyes stared at him hazily, still lost somewhere in between memory and reality. Ashe bowed down and kissed the man softly. Nerat blinked, comprehension finally returning to his features.

“Ashe…”

“Sleep now.”

“I saved them, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

Nerat smiled and closed his eyes. “I’m good then.”

“Good enough by me, now shut up and sleep, or I will knock you out.” 

Nerat snorted quietly. “You wouldn’t.”

A moment later he was fast asleep. Ashe watched him for a moment and then left the tent to give Erenyos orders concerning patrols for the night. Even as he walked away, Ashe couldn’t help but smile at the thought that he would join Nerat soon enough.


End file.
